


Old Boy

by The_neigh_sayer



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_neigh_sayer/pseuds/The_neigh_sayer
Summary: The origin story of Old Boy, John's horse
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston
Kudos: 24





	Old Boy

It had been a few weeks since the gang had ridden south--leaving behind the miserable cold and snow of the West Grizzlies and settling at Horseshoe Overlook; even longer since the wolf attack on the mountain. John was going stir crazy; he wasn't used to staying still all the time, he was used to action. Abigail had kept him in her sights day and night, it seemed, and he'd just about had it. He needed to get away by himself and think for a bit. 

He picked one of the spare horses from camp and saddled it, wishing like mad that it was his old horse that he'd lost to the wolves on the mountain, Duke. He'd had that horse for years and they'd been through a lot together. Not to mention his saddle that had been a gift from Dutch & Hosea for his 18th birthday. 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and mounted up. Just then he heard an all-too-familiar voice pipe up, "Just what do you think you're doin'?" He turned to see Abigail glaring up at him, her hands on her hips. 

He sighed. "Abigail, if I don't get outta here soon, I'm gonna explode. I won't go far, and I won't be gone long, I promise. Okay?" 

Her face softened. "Okay. But you better get back here in one piece, I mean it!"

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled to himself as he spurred the horse and rode out of camp.

He didn't have a destination, so he just headed north. He rode through Valentine, saying hello to the odd passerby and taking note of the buildings: general store, doctor, gunsmith, two saloons. Possibly some good opportunities for some outlaws such as the Van Der Linde Gang. As he rode out of town he continued north, spurring his horse up into a canter, enjoying the feel of the wind on his face. 

He hadn't ridden long before he came upon an army fort, heavily guarded. He paused to look at his surroundings, wondering where to go next, when he heard a gunshot followed by a scream. He turned his horse toward the sound when he saw a man stumble out of the treeline, clutching his arm. As John approached the man tried to flag him down, but a wolf suddenly bolted from the trees and knocked him down, biting onto the man's neck and shaking. John pulled his repeater out and dropped the wolf in one shot, but he was too late. He dismounted and stood looking the scene over--dead wolf next to dead man. The wolf looked to be in decent shape, so, not wanting it to go to waste, he skinned it and took what meat he could. 

He stowed the pelt on his horse and started to mount when he heard a noise coming from the trees. He whipped around, grabbing his repeater, expecting it to be another wolf, but was surprised to see a horse. It had stepped from the trees and stood there, looking down at the man on the ground. John looked at him and realized this was the man's horse. 

John approached him with his hand extended. "Hey there, big fella. Sorry about your man, there. Not much you can do for him now." He caught sight of some blood on the horse's rear leg and bent to inspect it. He had a nasty gash on his left rear leg, likely from the wolf, and it would need tending and would likely get infected without it. He couldn't very well leave him out here like this. He was a nice-looking horse-a silver bay Hungarian halfbred-not one you see every day. He liked halfbreds; they were built strong and didn't spook easy. He reached up and rubbed the horse's forehead, looking him in the eye. "Yeah, you can come with me, old boy. I'll get you fixed up." His fingers ghosted over his own wounds and he chuckled. "You and me, we got some things in common."

He grabbed the horse's reins and wrapped them around his saddle horn, then mounted his horse and trotted back to camp, the halfbred trotting lazily along beside.

Once back at camp he hitched the horse he'd been riding, then hitched the halfbred and removed his saddle and gave him a good looking over. He had two gashes on his rear left leg, but other than that appeared to be okay. He grabbed one of the buckets of clean water and went to work cleaning it out and grooming him. While he was working Arthur wandered over. "So who's this, then?"

John stopped and stood straight, looking the horse over. "Found his man killed by a wolf up north a ways. Saw he had a wound on his leg, couldn't leave him alone like that. I figured since I'm pretty much stuck here, I can take care of him. Give me something to do."

Arthur lit a cigarette and gave the horse a rub on his shoulder. "Looks like a pretty decent horse. And you've been needing one since...well, you know." 

John nodded solemnly. "Yeah, don't remind me."

Arthur scratched around on the horse's chest, making him stretch his neck out. "Got a name for him yet?"

"Not sure." He thought about it a moment. "I have actually been calling him 'old boy' already, for some reason. Guess I'll just go with that."

Hosea walked up behind them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "He looks like an Old Boy. Nice horse, John."

John rubbed Old Boy on his forehead, his hand trailing down his nose. "Yeah, he is a nice one, isn't he?"


End file.
